Drums
by TheWrathOfMajora
Summary: "The drums... Don't you hear them? Can't you hear their calling? Feel their pull?" - I had inspiration so I wrote it out. Takes place during Last of the Time Lords.


My arms are crossed, fingers tapping against my arm subconsciously, tapping out a rhythm of four as I stare ahead without really seeing. The drums, the drums; they never end, they never cease. Always the drumming. They pound four times, always four. They beat the same number of times that my own hearts do. _One, two, three, four_. Four times it pounds. Can't you hear the drums? Can't you feel them calling to you? The call to war, pulling at you, pounding in your mind, driving you _mad?_

No? Fine.

But _why?_ Why can't you hear them? I ask myself. Why do you insist that they aren't real? They're as real as you and me! I can feel them, their pain their banging that never gives a moment's peace. I _know_ I am right, but you are too stubborn to believe me. You always were. Oh, how I wish for you to feel them too, to understand them, for them to pound in your mind, day and night, not giving a moments pause. I wish for them to dig their cruel claws into you, destroy all sense of time and feeling within you until even your screams cannot drown out their incessant noise.

I hate you and your silence.

You say it is only me. _Good_. I am The Master, lord of all, and they are my blessing and curse. You deserve their pain and the suffering they so easily give, but not their call; no, the call to war, to destruction, to fire and death is mine and mine alone, and _oh_ , how _magnificent_ it all is! The power I gain for it is beyond words. Do you love the feeling of complete power? Of holding the lives of billions in your hands? It is the only thing that can appease the drums. But, even then, they continue on, always beating. But it quiets them for a moment, however fleeting it may be.

You say I'm mad. I know.

Regardless of my madness, I am still more clever, more cunning, more proud and a _better man_ than you could ever hope to be. Or perhaps it is _because_ of them and their constant pull that has led to my success. Look at me, I am the master of this Earth. And you? Ha! You act so high and mighty, but you are weak. A coward. I hold all the power; over you, your planet and all your precious little apes that live upon it. With one word, I could destroy you and everything you hold dear. _One, two, three, four._

I laugh as you stare in sadness.

I feel the drums are a part of me. I know them so well. Ever since I was a child, standing there on that fateful day, looking into the majesty of the Untempered Schism, they were there, calling me. _One, two, three, four_. Pounding in my skull. I learned long ago how to make the noise lessen, to stay the madness, even if it cannot completely go away, and that was by listening to their call to destruction, our want for power. But even with the power I now hold, they go stronger by the day, never satisfied, always wanting more and more. I destroy so much, even burn whole countries to the ground, and still, it will not abate. They consume everything, drown out the world until it is only them. Only the steady drumbeat. _One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four_. Their tempo increase, the pounding grows louder and louder still, until my entire mind is overtaken by the sound of drums. They hurt, I wish they would stop. You offer to help again, as if I would let you do that.

I don't need help.

I clench my teeth as my mind screams in time with the drumbeat, cursing you and the girl who stood before me. How could this happen?! I had _won!_ I had held the Earth in my palm! The universe had been so close to being my personal battlefield as I waged war across the stars. And yet, somehow, you ruined that like you always do. _One, two, three, four._ They're stronger now, as the upper hand I once had falls to you and your _friends_. They grow louder, and louder still. You ruined everything. But you have not won. I am The Master, you will never win. What are you doing? Stop, no no no don't you _dare_. Don't say that. Don't. Say. _That_. But you don't listen, you never do.

I don't want your forgiveness.

They pound, they pound. I smile despite the pain, both the burning in my mind and the slightly lesser feeling in my gut. It is amazing how quickly positions change, is it not? One moment, I am the proud and sole ruler of the Earth, all of humanity trembling before me, fearing my wrath, and the next moment, I'm lying on the floor, held in your arms as I bleed from a gunshot, _dying_. Funny isn't it? Oh, but you don't see the humor, do you? No, of course not.

I would laugh if it didn't hurt so much to.

It is ironic, how we would be the remaining two, the last of our kind. Me, the one they claimed was mad, and you, the one who ran away. We, the two outcasts, are the last remnants of a mighty race, and it's your fault. And oh, despite how much I _loathe_ you for it, how very sweet it is at this moment. _Regenerate_ , you scream at me. _Just regenerate_ , you cry. I smile, full of smug satisfaction and bitterness. I know exactly how to crush you, even from my lowly state. I will be the one victorious, my inner voice proclaims as the sound swells deafeningly in my ears. _One, two, three, four._

I refuse.

But I am curious, as the darkness steadily begins to overtake me and my senses slowly fade away. I am so, so extremely curious about one thing. They do not fade although everything else grows faint around me; they are still there. I still hear them in my head, drumming away, still as loud as ever as they increasingly pound. The drums, the never ending drums. Not even when I'm upon death's doorstep will they stop it would seem. It steadily beats the war call, but I cannot answer, not anymore. I cannot stay their call. I grab your arm, almost frantic. A question falls from my lips before I slip away completely into the darkness and the drums. Will they stop, Doctor?

 _Will the drums finally stop?_

No.

They do not.


End file.
